Bo Yan offered a chair. Bai Qi’s petite and soft body sank into the wide backrest, almost swallowed up.
He didn’t know how to rehearse, so he first lowered his head to carefully read the synopsis, a section of soft white nape subtly visible.
This was a BL (Boys’ Love) urban crime film, roughly about a forensic doctor (the seme, or dominant partner), Jiang Bo Yan, who, due to a bizarre murder case, actively approaches the beautiful and seemingly psychopathic killer (the uke, or submissive partner), Su Qi, the owner of a guesthouse.
During this time, the two continuously engage in ambiguous interactions. The cold and abstinent forensic doctor investigates and gathers evidence while gradually losing control and falling for the suspect. Fortunately, in the end, Su Qi is confirmed to be innocent, and the two work together to solve the case.
This film largely expresses inner emotions through repeated physical contact, with many bed scenes.
Bai Qi was surprised that Bo Yan would take on this type of role, but on second thought, the protagonist (seme) and his image did match quite well.
He looked again at the scene where Bo Yan found it hard to get into character.
On the first night Jiang Bo Yan moved into the guesthouse, he encountered Su Qi alone in the courtyard, bandaging a wound on his hand. Because it was inconvenient, Su Qi used his mouth to hold a corner of the bandage, and there seemed to be a wound on his lip as well.
A prime suspect with a wound on his hand—Jiang Bo Yan immediately became alert. After revealing his identity as a doctor, he stepped forward to help bandage the wound.
However, everything slowly changed. Jiang Bo Yan was uncontrollably attracted to Su Qi, and this was the first time the protagonist fell in love.
Falling in love because of bandaging a wound?
Bai Qi looked back and forth in surprise, unable to find anything ambiguous. Later on, even the dialogue disappeared, relying entirely on body language and expressions, which is why it stumped Bo Yan…
He pointed to this part and looked up at Bo Yan, asking, “Is this the scene you’re having trouble with?”
His petal-shaped eyes, slightly rounded from tilting his head, were a translucent amber, filled with a light mist.
Bo Yan gazed deeply at him, his throat dry. “Yes.”
Being able to help a big star rehearse was also exciting for Bai Qi. Unfortunately, after searching everywhere, he couldn’t find a bandage. In the end, Bo Yan gave him a red ribbon from a gift box as a substitute.
Bai Qi had no acting experience whatsoever; he hadn’t even seen many movies. Fortunately, there wasn’t much dialogue; his main role was to be a prop, helping Bo Yan find the feeling.
Soon, Bo Yan turned off the dorm lights, leaving only a dim desk lamp in the corner.
Bai Qi sat quietly, wearing soft pajamas, surrounded by a hazy halo of light. He looked fragrant and soft, his eyelashes fluttering like raven feathers, beautiful as if about to take flight.
He held the ribbon and looked towards the back of the room. A tall, slender figure was shrouded in deep, terrifying darkness; his emotions were unclear, but a certain kind of danger seemed to spread out.
Bai Qi couldn’t describe his exact feelings at that moment.
Perhaps due to his professional background, Bo Yan was unusually silent, and on closer inspection, a little… crazy.
He suddenly realized how good Bo Yan’s acting was, how quickly he got into character. The forensic doctor seemed inherently crazy, as the script contained many shocking plots.
Not daring to disturb him further, Bai Qi lowered his head and acted as instructed by the script.
His glazed white fingertips hooked the deep red ribbon, wrapping it around his thin wrist. The red and white colors intertwined, like ripe, rotten plums falling into milk.
After wrapping it a few times, it was difficult to tie it with one hand, so he leaned forward slightly and bit a corner. His moist, soft lips were pressed against the ribbon, and his snow-white teeth flashed briefly.
A touch of alluring sweetness filled the air.
The darkness in the distance seemed to churn, thick and almost impossible to disperse. One glance almost inspired fear.
Bai Qi sat under the halo of light, concentrating on tying the ribbon, without glancing anywhere else, not wanting to disturb Bo Yan’s thoughts.
After an unknown amount of time, footsteps gradually approached him. Bai Qi’s vision darkened, and he heard Bo Yan’s cold and indifferent voice: “Let me do it; I’m a doctor.”
Bai Qi relaxed his jaw, and the ribbon slipped from his lips and teeth, faintly dampened. His red lips were fresh and tender.
In the script, Su Qi had a strong personality, was beautiful, and was very wary, being a single person running a guesthouse in a tourist area.
Bai Qi imitated Su Qi, raising his head expressionlessly to scrutinize Bo Yan’s sharp eyebrows and his long, slender hand hanging by his side, before nodding: “Thank you.”
Then he extended his wrist, coldly watching the other handle it.
He was striking, and when he had a cold expression, there was an untouchable beauty about him. He had a slight air of distance, yet his demeanor was soft, a contradictory and captivating combination.
Bo Yan moved closer.
His broad shoulders pressed down like a hunting eagle. He silently stared at the damp mark on the corner of the ribbon, his Adam’s apple bobbing. After a moment, he avoided that area and quickly removed the ribbon.
The red ribbon swayed and fell, revealing mottled indentations on his wrist. Pretty pink welled up from beneath his snow-white skin, and a sweet scent lingered in the air.
Bai Qi’s skin was too sensitive and delicate, even the slightest touch causing redness.
Bo Yan’s upper arm muscles tensed. His large, well-defined hand held the soft, slender wrist, subconsciously tightening slightly until it pressed into the tender white flesh, leaving an unusual, alluring mark.
The two were very close, the cold fragrance and a hint of sweetness slowly blending, creating a seductive atmosphere.
Their breathing seemed heavier.
Bai Qi’s earlobe was touched by Bo Yan’s breath, first causing a slight tingling sensation, then becoming hot, the itch spreading from his cheek to his neck.
He was unbearably itchy and instinctively wanted to move away, but remembering that they were rehearsing, he tried his best to endure it, biting his lip and gently exhaling.
Just like in the script, Bo Yan stared closely at Bai Qi’s soft lips, observing the non-existent wound on his corner.
Gradually, his ears became increasingly red.
After a serious observation, Bo Yan impassively shifted his gaze, skillfully re-tying the ribbon, just like the calm and unyielding forensic doctor in the script. His pale face possessed an almost cold beauty.
Then he straightened up again, lowering his head to concentrate on the script, almost unable to look at Bai Qi.
Bai Qi asked expectantly and nervously, “Is it better now?”
His tone was soft and slow, his voice a little soft and sweet, making people’s hearts itch.
Bo Yan’s temples throbbed. He closed his eyes, then smiled, his tone unusually gentle: “I found the feeling. Thank you for helping me.”
Bai Qi’s eyes lit up.
“Great,” he untied the ribbon and gave it back to Bo Yan, finally feeling useful.
His beautiful face was radiant, like a rose blooming in the rainy season: “Feel free to ask me for help anytime.”
Bo Yan’s long fingers held the ribbon tightly, staring at Bai Qi’s rosy and delicate face, the suppressed flames in his eyes almost uncontrollable.
After a while, he pressed his tongue against his cheek, his voice hoarse: “I may need your help often.”
“It’s nothing,” Bai Qi didn’t think it was any trouble at all; rehearsing was so easy.
In a good mood, he returned to his desk. Just then, an order came in—from an unfamiliar star. He shifted his mood and sat down to seriously retouch the photos.
Not long after, the dorm door was gently pushed open.
Zhang Cheng, drenched to the bone, entered cheerfully. He was truly unlucky; a heavy rain had poured down on him as he returned from the library.
He quickly took off his clothes and bent down to protect his computer. Fortunately, a fan of Bo Yan recognized him as Bo Yan’s roommate and held an umbrella to escort him back, so his computer remained dry.
This made him deeply appreciate the benefits of being a top star’s roommate. He immediately went to Bo Yan to tell him about this and ask if he could get an autograph for the fan.
However, as soon as he looked up, he saw Bo Yan turn on the desk lamp and carefully examine a ribbon.
It wasn’t so much examining as playing with it? It was like he had received some rare treasure; he was carefully exploring it, then carefully put it into a beautiful gift box, casually tossing aside the original delicate trinket inside.
Zhang Cheng was surprised. This ribbon looked quite ordinary, like the one used to tie the box.
He thought, rich people are different. He tentatively asked Bo Yan for an autograph.
He originally thought Bo Yan wouldn’t give it, so he only asked tentatively; after all, such things were up to his mood. Before, when others asked him for autographs, he rarely signed.
However, perhaps he was in a good mood, or maybe it was because of his status as Zhang Cheng, Bo Yan even asked the student’s name before quietly signing.
Zhang Cheng’s smile deepened, and he strolled back to the second bed. As he looked back, he saw Bai Qi working at his computer, quickly retouching photos.
It was a casual glance, yet he suddenly found the person familiar.
After thinking for a while, Zhang Cheng’s expression became strange.
Wasn’t this the little star who had previously been rumored to be clinging to Bo Yan? He had become popular and then secretly tried to associate himself with Bo Yan. There were even rumors of him persistently pursuing Bo Yan, after which there was no more news.
Remembering Bo Yan’s presence nearby, and that Bai Qi was already somewhat awkward with him because of Lin Feng, what should he do?
Zhang Cheng quietly asked, “Do you know him?”
Bai Qi was a little embarrassed and shook his head: “Not really.”
Zhang Cheng sent him a WeChat message, secretly telling him about the little star’s deeds, and reminding him to hurry up and finish, and best not let Bo Yan see, as Bo Yan had a bad temper.
However, before he finished sending the message, Bo Yan happened to get up and go to the bathroom.
Passing by Bai Qi’s screen, he glanced casually.
Zhang Cheng’s expression froze.
Just as he was about to smooth things over, he saw Bo Yan look away without saying anything and enter the bathroom.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
After all, Bo Yan didn’t have time to remember all these newcomers; he probably had forgotten.
…
At ten o’clock in the evening, it was Bai Qi’s bedtime.
His sleep schedule was always very regular; he either went to bed early and woke up early, or went to bed early and woke up late—in short, he tried his best not to stay up late so that he could remain clear-headed the next day.
Bai Qi was very afraid of the feeling of mental fogginess, which would make him vaguely remember the alcoholic and abusive man from his childhood. He didn’t want to become that kind of person.
Fortunately, his roommates were very accommodating in this matter. After ten o’clock, they turned off the lights and stopped making noise. He was very grateful.
At this moment, Zhao Bin turned off the dorm lights on time, quietly playing games in bed. Zhang Cheng silently played on his phone below, with only a faint light.
The two, as always, fell silent at the appointed time. Surprisingly, Bo Yan, who had been on the balcony making a call, also hung up simultaneously and went to his desk to turn off the desk lamp and put away the script.
The dorm immediately fell into darkness, and it was incredibly quiet.
Bai Qi stared blankly, unable to help but breathe a sigh of relief.
He was a light sleeper; if there was noise or light, he couldn’t easily fall asleep. Fortunately, Bo Yan’s sleep schedule was similar to his.
Quietly getting into bed, Bai Qi felt sleepy and prepared to lie down. Lowering his head, he found that Bo Yan’s bed was already made, with his pillow next to his side.
He hesitated a little.
Previously, the fourth bed was empty, so it didn’t matter which direction he slept in. But now that Bo Yan’s pillow was next to his, sleeping with his feet toward him felt awkward.
After thinking for a moment, he moved his pillow to Bo Yan’s side and slowly lay down.
Having been accustomed to one direction, the sudden change felt a little awkward. It felt like the bed had shrunk. Fortunately, the room was quiet, allowing him to gradually calm down and adapt somewhat.
However, when Bo Yan also got into bed and lay down, the awkward feeling in Bai Qi’s heart rose again, reaching its peak.
The boy was tall; his head was almost touching the bed railing, and the gap in the railing was too wide, essentially non-existent, so the two of them were extremely close; their hair almost brushed against each other.
Bai Qi closed his eyes, the feeling of his hair being moved was particularly noticeable, causing a fine tingling sensation in his neck.
He subconsciously moved, curling up and lying sideways against the wall.
A moment later, he faintly smelled a scent, very light, making him involuntarily think of clean snow on pine branches.
It was a very pleasant smell, but it was so unfamiliar, as if it was constantly encroaching on his private space.
Bai Qi instinctively rubbed his nose. With a little starlight, he vaguely saw Bo Yan’s high, narrow nose bridge and closed eyes, his features sharp and three-dimensional, so close that he was practically sleeping next to his head, his presence very strong.
The dorm became unusually quiet, so quiet that even Bo Yan’s close breath could be heard.
Bai Qi didn’t dare to move, afraid of disturbing his rest by turning over.
At this moment, the phone by the pillow rang. He quickly silenced it. He saw his class monitor privately messaging him, asking about the big star’s stay in the dorm and his current mental state.
Bai Qi typed in reply: “He’s already asleep.”
After sending this message, the class monitor was extremely surprised: “So early? I remember his fans said he sleeps very late.”
Huh?
Bai Qi looked over again secretly and found that Bo Yan was really lying motionless with his eyes closed.
He quietly typed: “He might be too tired from his first day here.”
Class monitor: “Possible, but I’m still shocked. I heard that Bo Yan was never tired during filming, even climbing mountains and crossing rivers. His stamina must be amazing.”
“I heard that he has work scheduled for the weekend, so he might be contacted at this hour, yet he is sleeping so early.”
Now Bai Qi was also surprised.
Thinking back to how Bo Yan hung up the phone as soon as the lights were turned off, he was slightly startled. Was Bo Yan accommodating him?
Then he thought that he was overthinking it. Even if he was accommodating him, he could have played on his phone or computer like Zhang Cheng and Zhao Bin, there was no need to come and sleep together.
He probably was just too tired, and he would definitely stay up late tomorrow.
